Foolish Infatuations
I fell for her in nineteen sixty nine,
When we commenced our journey of love
Along the twilit path of innocence;
My zeal was unaware of the reality
That the woman I loved wasn't mine.
I stopped our ride near the precipice,
The stones on which were cold due to
The night that harnessed my prospects;
We sat by a tree and I held her hands,
Caressed her hair without any malice.
We talked of our affair and feelings,
In unforeseen malarkey of an illusory feat
Which we called an immortal passion;
At long last, I had the frail courage
To express to her my amatory longings.
She was stunned at my boyish imbecility,
While I tried to becalm her in copout
With aberrant words to dodge the truth;
We continued being playful in false love,
While I lamented in my heart's humility.
After few years of sham togetherness,
I listened to my scarred young bosom
And interpreted the final message;
I parted ways with her in dolour,
Yet I longed her in veiled forlornness.
Forty years passed by and I lost my mind,
When I slowly entered my solitary dotage
With a blemished but a stronger heart;
I could think of nothing else but her,
The first love who was one of a kind.
Copyright © Niladri Chakraborty | Year Posted 2015
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